There are fluctuations in the space-time continuum all around us, but we never really notice. Here it is, the last week of August, to adults, just an ordinary set of seven days, but to anyone still attending school, the last week of August gets compressed into what feels like two days, and like the last of the summer wine, gets sucked into the vortex of Labor Day and school begins ten minutes after Labor Day.
Adults love Autumn because the cool weather is coming and the wonderful smells of crisp air with a hint of winter. The Maple trees on Shelter Island get the memo from the off island trees on when to start turning their colors. All except for this one Maple way up on Manhasset Road.
Every year, this one Maple, I think he’s a ‘special’ deciduous Maple, seems to jump the gun and starts a little sooner than the rest. It’s probably some kind of Maple anxiety disorder, it can’t be that easy to know you’ll be losing all your leaves and spending the winter naked. Maybe he gets worried he’s fall behind the official fall schedule so he start a little early. I feel bad for him. Right now, he’s got two leaves turning red. He’s off the road a bit and I think is trying to hide his premature coloration by shifting some of his green leaves over the top of the red ones, but it’s clear he has flicked his Auto-Autumn switch on and will be ahead of the others from now on. Of course, it could just be my imagination.
“Look Pete, Edgar’s doing it again this year! I thought you talked to him.”
“Geez, Frank, I can’t believe him! He knows he didn’t win the First Colors pool this year, he doesn’t get to show the first colors on the Island! Sammy won the pool. He bought sixteen of the Monty the Big Oak’s branches and the first bird’s nest to fall out of the tree was on the first branch he bought, he didn’t even need to bet on the other fifteen. He is going to be so pissed.”
“Well, maybe he doesn’t know yet. We’ll just keep our conversations light and breezy and maybe Sammy won’t find out. Poor schmo, he’s been playing the pool for years, this was the first time he won and now that arrogant ...”
“No chance of him not finding out, Frank. You know who’s behind you - that big Poplar, Peggy - once she gets wind of this, it’ll be all over the Island in no time. I don’t think the Poplars around here have anything better to do than gossip. There are no secrets on Shelter Island.”
“Why did he do it? It’s Maple suicide. Wait till the first big storm hits, I’m hurling my second biggest branch right his way.”
“You and me both, Frank. Joe and Tommy are on the other side of him and I know Tommy, believe me, he’s got Edgar in his sites. You know about Tommy, right? Tommy the Biker Beater?”
“Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that...is it true?”
“Yep. Some biker in a full leathers pulled over to relieve himself on Tommy and Tommy cracked off a branch right over his head, I could hear it crack from my spot.”
“Did he hit the guy?”
“No, the guy jumped out of the way, but Tommy got his bike. He had to push his Harley along the side of the road. It was sweet. I never heard Oaks laugh before, they don’t talk much, really keep to themselves, but they have a wicked sense of humor. They kept shooting little twigs in the guys face the whole way down the road.”
“Guess the Oak was on him....”
“Ouch! Oh, man, that’s sad....”
“Well, at least, after we wipe out Edgar this year, he won’t be around to flirt with Julie in the Spring.”
“Julie? He flirts with Julie? My Mimosa?”
“Oh, hey, Frank, man, I didn’t know. It’s just what I heard.”
“Edgar will be roots up by December.....”
